


Those I care for best, do me most harm

by poemsforheroes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Minor Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, also some feelings between steve and bucky, i don't know what i'm doing anymore, it's just sam and bucky and some feelings, there's no real story there, you know what - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poemsforheroes/pseuds/poemsforheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s all about Sam feelings towards Bucky, his absence and how to cope. It’s all about him.</p><p>(update: suddenly the short story I had in mind decided to not be so short anymore and i'm writing chapter 3 now and they're still not getting together, so if you're in a hurry i'm sorry, but if you like to suffer and cry, treat yourself)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> hello, you have to know first that I didn't watch Civil War yet, but this story still takes place after the movie.  
> I hint at some things that happened in the movie to establish the situation but you better not expect total accuracy towards the canon storyline.  
> Basically, Sam and Steve are hiding in a safe house, but still have time for relationships because feelings take no vacation.  
> (well, Steve have time for a relationship while Sam Suffers)(he deserves better, i know, he knows, we all know)
> 
> (the title is a fragment by Sappho)

Sam missed Bucky so damn much.

He didn’t really realized it at first, but he started thinking about him when he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t really knew why, the thought came by itself, just an image at first, then memories of little details he remembered about Bucky. The length of his hair almost touching his shoulders, the color of the cap he wore the first time he saw him, how his metal arm would adjust to a certain move… He remembered the fights, but also the one you couldn’t really call fights, more like the tension between two strangers who don’t trust each other but are linked by one man they would follow into hell. And, surely, that was all there was to their relationship : Steve. He was why they met, why they fought together, why they allowed little bits of trust, even solidarity, sneak between them. And now Bucky was back to where they found him, frozen in time, in some goddamn metal cage.

The next night, he thought about him again. He saw Bucky again. It was like flashes that came then were gone so quickly he couldn’t ask himself what that meant before the other one came along and he was drifting. This time he heard his voice, so close to his ear, in the car, asking for him to get his seat up. The time he flew in when they fought Spider-Man, then they were laying there, next to each other, catching their breath. Why was he thinking about the proximity of their bodies only now ? Wilson, get a grip on yourself !

His nights became shorter. He grew even more tired, restless, he was walking around with frayed nerves and god knows how difficult it was to do that with Steve and Sharon around.

Sharon wasn’t visiting that often, she still had a job and had to keep a low profile, but she and Steve couldn’t get their hands off of each other for long, so every two weeks, she would come around or go meet Steve at a bar, and for some reason, Steve felt like he had to take Sam with him.  
Steve was a good guy, always ready to fight for a cause he believed in, but when it came to other’s pain, he wasn’t so equipped to help. He could see the effect that isolation had on Sam, it felt bad to just let the man behind.

So every now and then, they would all three meet in a bar, or a club crowded and loud enough to have a few hours without being noticed. They would usually just grab a drink, and talk about the past week, every progress that could have happened. There wasn’t so much of this.

But sometimes, Steve and Sharon would go and enjoy a dance. Steve was still so terrible at it, but Sam wasn’t really interested in mocking him when he had the person he loved so close, so tight in his arms.

\- Sam, you’re sure it’s okay ? We can head home if you want to…

\- No, come on, go dance. Though, knowing how you sway your hips, be careful you don’t break one.

At that, he just headed back to the bar and asked for another beer. Steve was always full of good intentions, but he knew he would have to wait at least another thirty minutes before he would detach himself from Sharon.

He sat himself on the stool, and when he raised his head, he saw him. The brown hair, tips brushing the shoulders, and then he turned his head… For some precious seconds, he thought he was just there. But the eyes that met his, the lips that twitched in a grin, it was all wrong with his memories. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Bucky.  
He took a sip of his beer. What the hell got into him ? He felt so much… hope. Yeah, that was it, for a few seconds he had been so hopeful, imagining Bucky was there, standing accross the bar and he could… what ? Take him by the ear and drag him back to Steve ? Fight him ? It all felt wrong, like that wasn’t what he had really hoped for.

\- You know what, add a shot of tequila with that.

\- Put down a line, another voice said. And Not-Bucky was standing right next to him, handing a bill to the barman, a bit too close, his perfume made Sam wince before he even turned his head.  
He must have seen it, because he quickly added.

\- Hey, if you feel too far gone, I’ll blow you right now.  
He had come even closer to his ear, and Sam was surprised as how wrong the voice sounded. Still not Bucky. Though, he eyed the shots and before he knew what he was doing he took one. The other guy just grinned wider.

They had downed the ten shots without exchanging a word. Sam wasn’t looking at him, his crappy cologne was burning his nostrils.

\- Ok let’s go. He heard the voice and felt a hand drag him accross the crowd, they quickly got out of the club and the man stopped there.

\- Where do you wanna do it ?

His mind rushed back at that moment, though what fucked up part of his mind, he wondered. Now he was the one dragging the other guy, who let himself be led to the small alley right behind the club, this shit-eating grin still in place. He hated how the eyes were too light, the cheekbones too flat, how he was seeing a man in his head that wasn’t the one in front of him, and the voice was so far from the original, so not Bucky…  
That’s probably why he crashed his own mouth on the other man lips. His whole body was pressing him into the wall, one thigh grinding hard between the other man’s legs, he could feel the hardness there and didn’t know why he hated it so much.  
At this point, he had closed his eyes. His mouth was kissing and biting down the neck in front of him, one hand was on the guy’s mouth because even his moans felt too wrong, so wrong, he could hear, _I’m not Bucky, I’m not him, not him, not him_ , and didn’t know if it was in his head or if he was saying it. He licked at one collarbone and fuck this awful cologne, that was all the taste he had in his mouth, so he went back to the lips under his hand, because tequila and beer, at least, he could stand it.  
He felt hands groping him, fondling behind him, from his closely cropped hair to the small of his back, the hands were creeping under his shirt and he shivered. He opened the fly of the other man’s pants and began to palm his erection through his underwear. He broke the kiss just to have a look, and flushed even more aggressively, not even at what he was seeing, but at what he was seeing on someone else. Bucky wouldn’t wear something so tight, he wouldn’t see him in that, actually, he was totally seeing him in that, that must be why he quicken the pace.  
He heard himself groan and the body under him froze, arched into him, pressing into his palm. He had to take a step back to realize what was happening.

\- Man, don’t leave me like that.

He put his hand back on the other man’s cock and worked him through his climax. What he was trying to convince himself since the beginning eventually set into his brain. He felt less angry, less desperate, but the rush of feelings gone, he was left with an awkward lump in his chest, like something shouldn’t be there, between his ribs and his heart and it was heavy and just confusing. He wasn’t sure that was better. But now, he could at least think again, look clearly at what was before him. And he was just spotting more details that made the man a completely different person than the one he had in mind. He spotted little tight curls appearing under the ears and around the neck.

\- Do you straighten you hair ?

\- Are you really gonna talk about my hair after that ?

Still the same fucking grin. Sam was absent-mindedly brushing the curls with his finger tips, when he recognized the voice calling farther in the alley.

\- Sam ?

He whispered a quick _fuck_ , and wiped his hand on the other guy’s jeans. He ignored the offer for a second round as he passed Steve, standing awkwardly at the end of the alley, Sharon beside him.

\- You both done ? We’re going home ?

He didn’t wait for them to answer, he strode rapidly to the car as if he was escaping from something. What the hell was he doing ? It wasn’t like it was a first for him, and Steve would accept it, sooner or later, whatever era he was actually born in. He would be awkward with it at first, of course, the 40s guy in him. Sam didn’t care, he could talk about him as much as he wanted if it helped him pass the shock, with Sharon, Natasha, whoever he wanted to talk with, it wasn’t like Sam was still in the closet anyway. He would even talk to Bucky if he could, maybe as soon as he get out of his frozen deathtrap. Bucky would react like him, probably, shocked at first, then accept it right ? He wouldn’t care ? But then he would know, he would know that Sam had been with other men while he was in cryo, he couldn’t know, he couldn’t think Sam didn’t care, Steve couldn’t tell him. But how could he voice it to Steve.

When he got back home, Sam mumbled a half-hearted apology about being tired and immediately went to crash on his bed. Wilson, fucking get a grip on yourself !  
Well, admonishing himself didn’t work wonders this days. Minutes after he kicked off his shoes, the images were back. This time, he didn’t even fight it. He was tired, just so goddamn tired.  
He opened his fly and put his pants and briefs down to his knees. He began to touch himself gently, as if it wasn’t his own body he was touching and he wasn’t the one touching him. He thought about what his hands must feel like, where the callouses were, the thickness of the fingers, would he go at this pace ? Would he brush his balls with the other hand like that ? Put some pressure right at the base of his cock just like he was doing ?  
He was groaning, eyes closed, arching in his hand, because fuck if he wanted this, he waited long enough. He shifted, face down in the pillow, hand and cock traped between the mattress and his own body, slightly propped up on his knees, ass in the air, as if he was waiting, offering, for someone who wouldn’t come, but right now he didn’t think of it, he kept going, fucking himself, fucking his hand, he saw the eyes, the sinful smile, and it matched so well with his memories his body shuddered and here he was, coming, coating his hand, living a wet spot on the mattress.  
He fell on his back, eyes still closed. His breathing was all he could hear.  
Everything was silent and it made his stomach churn.


	2. Long and lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam went back home, he saw the lights under the door, heard laughter from inside, and maybe he was having a really bad night, maybe he souldn't have had so much to drink, but he got angry.

One night, one of those nights when the missing felt more like hurting, he went at the bar alone.

He started doing this a bit too often, often enough for Steve to get worried. Well, Steve was always worried with anything he couldn’t control, it was difficult to escape the man.

But once again, Sam was sitting at the bar, watching the crowd. He would just sit there, drink, too much, hook up with a guy, in the alley or the bathroom. It was just a way to mute his brain, it was temporary, but those nights, he could sleep, even if he felt miserable in the morning, he could sleep.

That night was just the same.

 

When he went back home, he saw that the lights were still on. The appartment was a bit small for two grown men, but there were two bedrooms and that was all the comfort they really needed. Well, that’s what Sam would tell himself everytime he thought about his sister’s home. The house was not new, the paint was chipping on the outside and Sam always had to repair a door or a window one of the kids shattered, but he thought about the house and it looked like a dream. He could see the garden, that was his sister’s pride. She would plant tomatoes, green beans, salad and even strawberries. She was always screaming at the kids to not play near the veg garden because they could step on the mint, even though they got scared enough years ago to not come near it. Cats from the neighborhood were always coming around and she acted as if it bothered her, but he knew she was putting water and leftovers outside.

Damn, next time he would see her she would be so mad at him. She’s gonna be so angry that he left without saying anything. They probably went to her house, interrogated her in front of the kids...

And Sam got angry himself, because he just stumbled in the stairs from the ground floor to the third and now he could see the light under the door and he heard laughter and he got so angry. He thought about his sister and the children in the house and he knew how they asked questions when he didn’t come for a long time, but he couldn’t call her, he couldn’t tell her he was alive and well and _it will be over soon, promise_.

 

He was just in front of the door now and he thought he had drowned his heartache hours ago but it came back full force and it was ripping through him. Steve was laughing and he could hear Sharon too, because of fucking course she would be there. They were probably having a great time, dancing in the middle of the appartment, they would have push back the couch to try and imagine themselves in a ballroom or whatever they thought about in those moments, too busy being happy.

And Sam heard plates and glasses chinking against each other, and now he knew how bad an idea alcohol was when it got mixed with nostalgia, because he was not in this dark hallway anymore, he was sitting at a table and his family was there, everyone laughing, and her sister was such a great cook, but she wouldn’t stop talking about snails eating half of the beans and the kids feeding the stray cats. He remembered the meals, and that’s what he missed the most when he would go on a mission outside of the country, not only for the quality of the meatloaf, but for the atmosphere and how warm and lighthearted it would make him feel.

He blinked and he was still sitting with his family but this time Bucky was right next to him and he was eating so much, more rice than meat and it was making Sam’s sister smile.

He blinked again and he was still seeing Bucky and he was sitting there, with him, and it felt so real, he could see his eyes and it was the perfect shade of blue this time. He was looking at him and his lips were moving and maybe that’s Sam’s name they were saying but he was still looking at the eyes, and there was this shadow in them and he wanted to ask what was wrong, he wanted to tell him everything would be okay but there was a knot in his throat and he could hardly breath.

He closed his eyes, but it wasn’t better, he was still watching Bucky but he couldn’t see his eyes anymore and he didn’t know if he was sleeping or dead. He panicked but his body was frozen and was he in cryo too ? Did they lock him up too ?

Then Bucky’s face was fading, everything was getting dark and he wanted to scream because he remembered the last time he saw someone fall and…

 

\- Sam !

 

His eyes shot back open. He was back in the hallway, the light was on and Steve, on his knees, right in front of him. He didn’t remember when he got on the floor but he was sitting on the cold tiles, his back against the wall and he would have felt the tears dripping from his chin if his heart wasn’t pounding so loud in his chest. He gasped for air and wondered for how long he stopped breathing.

 

\- Sam, what’s happening ? Can you hear me ? Sam !

 

He needed some time. Air was back in his lungs but his throat was hurting from the knot that just loosened. He wanted to tell Steve to stop screaming at him like that, was he screaming though ? It didn’t look like it, but everything was so loud he could even hear the buzzing of the bulb above him. He looked up to the ceiling, because hell, what kind of lighting were they even using in this building, it was litteraly blinding him. That’s probably why he didn’t see him before.

Sharon was standing right behind Steve, looking at Sam with a concerned look. But behind her, in the door frame, remote from the little group they were forming in the middle of the hall, Bucky was standing, tense, eyes riveted on his. Bucky was there. Right there.

 

Sam’s breathing was stabilized by now, but he still felt like his senses were painfully enhanced, so when Steve touched his shoulder to bring back Sam’s attention to him, he violently flinched as if his body was overtaken by a spasm.

 

\- Sam, talk to me.

 

\- Steve, there is…

His eyes went back on Bucky, still staying at a safe distance as if he was afraid Sam would jump on him.

 

\- Yes, he’s back with us. But you have to tell me what just happened with you.

 

Now, that he could breath and the light wasn’t so blinding anymore, his head was clearing. He just had an anxiety attack and he wasn’t sure what triggered it, he was thinking about his sister, his family, and Bucky… _Oh_. Well, shit.

 

\- I… need some water.

 

He started to get up, slowly. Steve took a step back, but it only made Sam realize how close he was, and he still had an arm extended next to him, not quite touching him, but just in case his legs wouldn’t hold him right. Meanwhile, Bucky had already retreated in the apartment.

 

He found himself able to walk a few steps, then Sharon handed him a glass of water.

 

\- Are you going to be okay ?

 

Her voice was soft, he knew she was sincerely worried. He felt a bit ashamed about his anger towards her earlier. He just nodded then slumped on the couch and drank the water in one gulp.

 

Steve sat next to him, letting some distance between them.

\- I never saw you like that.

 

\- Yeah, it doesn’t happen often anymore.

Of course, Sam couldn’t tell Steve why it happened this time. He couldn’t tell Steve that he was probably crazy in love with his best friend and he was so deep into it that just thinking about him was making him lose all sense of reality, eventually ending up in crying fits on the floor. Probably isolation had something to do with it too.

But also, maybe he had some issues noone asked about because they were all preoccupied with being superheroes-turned-fugitives and he couldn’t have the talk on mental illness with him.

 

But the lack of communication on the team wasn’t what was preoccupying him at the moment.

 

He looked at Bucky for the third time this night. It felt somewhat important to keep the count. Bucky was sitting in the far corner of the room, one arm gripping the back of the chair, pressed against the wall. Everything about him screamed wariness, from the tensed back to the « covering all entries » position. Sam looked at the plates on the table.

 

\- So, how did you get out ?

 

Bucky just looked at Steve.

 

\- There’s a situation in Wakanda. Mercenaries, we’re not sure, but it’s plausible to assume they’ve been hired by Ross. What we don’t know is how he knew about Bucky in Wakanda. Nat is on her way.

 

\- Still doesn’t tell me how he’s here ?

 

\- T’Chala brought him back here so Wakanda wouldn’t be a target anymore, they were able to stop the attacks but it still made some damage. If it’s about Ross, we’ll probably have more chances to stop him here than if we all go to Wakanda. T’Chala’s still in New York, though, officialy he’s visiting Stark Industries.

Steve sighed.

\- We got a few hours before we go to meet him and start taking care of this. Maybe you’d like to sleep a bit.

 

Sam looked at Steve, but his head was still pounding.

\- Yeah, I guess this was a bad timing for a night out.

 

He looked at Bucky, maybe a bit too suddenly. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking, now he knew, Bucky saw him like that. Sam could still feel the aftertaste of beer in his mouth, and some sweetness, the other guy had been drinking cocktails, he didn’t know what kind, something with fruits and syrup. He wanted to throw up but didn’t know if it was the thought of alcohol or because just an hour ago he was pressed against a stranger, while Bucky was right there.

Steve caught his look.

 

\- I’m sorry, I didn’t know about any of this before Sharon arrived here with Bucky, two hours ago.

 

\- Any communication can be dangerous now, they probably know Bucky is already back in the country, but we couldn’t risk revealing your location.

Sharon was still looking at him like he would collapse anytime soon.

 

\- Yeah, yeah, okay. I guess... I’ll just go to bed now.

 

Steve rose at the same time he did, Sam just avoided to look at him.

 

\- We’ll start moving at 8.

 

\- Ok, goodnight.

 He needed to get out. He needed to stop seeing Bucky and think about nothing but _he’s here, he’s here, he’s here_.

 

\----------------

 

After Sharon left, Steve went back to sit on the couch. Bucky hadn’t moved from where he was sitting, his body was still tensed, he thought he would have felt better now that the two of them were by themselves… It wouldn’t be that easy.

 

\- He doesn’t seem too pleased to see me.

 

Steve tried to read something on Bucky’s face, but he just kept the same neutral expression he had as he arrived here two hours ago. He had tried to make him feel a bit more at ease, though maybe asking Sharon to stay hasn’t been the best idea to do that, she was still a stranger to his friend. _His friend_. He had never doubted it in his life, Bucky had always been the one he had never doubted. It was a gift to have him back at his side, but he had to acknowledge that the Bucky Barnes he knew in the 40s wasn’t the same Bucky Barnes in front of him today.

 

\- Don’t worry. I don’t think it was you, isolation has taken a toll on him, it’s been a long time running from one place to another. It’s my fault if he’s like that, I saw him getting more distant but I didn’t know how to talk to him. I think… What happened to Rhodes brought back some bad memories, then… then the imprisonment.

 

Steve sighed. Sam was his friend, and he had been unable to help him when he most needed it.

 

\- When you lose everything, it’s difficult to remember other people can still have a family.

Bucky had glanced at the door while saying this. Steve had told him about Peggy being Sharon’s aunt. He had said nothing, he just briefly looked at Sharon and nodded thoughtfully.

 

\- We still have each other.

Steve had looked at him, with a smile and hope in his eyes he wasn’t sure he was allowed to show. But he desperately wanted Bucky to believe it, because Steve believed it. They were back, against all odds, the two of them were reunited and he wouldn’t let anyone tear them apart one more time.

 

Bucky held his gaze.

\- ‘Til the end of the line.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I eventually saw Civil War and it was amazing, but I feel bad because I don't know how to write Sharon??? I'm sorry, but also when I see the role Clint played in CW, I guess sometimes you just can't focus on everyone, huh.
> 
> I hope it wasn't too long between the two chapters, also this one is a bit longer (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos, it seriously warms my heart and is a very good reminder to keep up with this story.  
> Don't hesitate to leave a little comment !


	3. Tiptoeing around our hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I have no summary for this one, I just wanted to get it out so I can move onto the next part of the story ........... but to sum up this part : a lot of self doubts, and communication issues.

8 a.m. was a bit late if they wanted to be really cautious, he knew Steve just wanted to give him time, and with the show from earlier, he was in no position to object.

Yeah, Wilson, fucking bad timing.

 

He went straight to the shower. Hot water was soothing, almost numbing. He tried to shut down his brain, focus on each drop hitting his back, the warmth all around him, the steam rendering the glass tiles opaque, but all he could think about was where Bucky would sleep tonight ? Right before he turned on the water he heard the door closing, he assumed Sharon had left. Would Steve let Bucky sleep on the couch ? Or would he give him his bed for the night ? Both Steve and Sam had single beds, and there was no way two men built like the three of them could share one, not if a couch was available. Steve and Bucky probably had shared a bed at least once, though. Not like, in a sexual way, but they knew each other since they were kids, that’s something kids do, right ? He tried to imagine the little guy that Steve was before the super soldier serum, having a sleepover with Bucky Barnes. He pictured himself having a sleepover with Bucky Barnes, except this one wasn’t in the forties, and they weren’t kids. Also Bucky wasn’t tensed, he wasn’t ready to run, he wasn’t staying silent, his eyes weren’t darting in the direction of every noise he could hear...

Being back to New York was certainly raising his nervousness to new heights, and all Sam had been able to say when he saw him was ask how he got here. He cursed himself.

 

\--

 

They had emptied the appartment and left at 7:30.

 

But avoiding federal agents scrutiny and mercenaries allowed to shoot at sight was not as easy as avoiding trafic at 8 a.m., being early wasn’t enough.

 

So when, 30 minutes only in the car, they encountered the first killer squad (those ones were definitely not feds, discretion seemed out of their vocabulary), Sam was not surprised.

Well, small street, empty road, they should have seen it coming.

 

It was the first time since long he fought without his wings, so he took some time at first to feel his combat reflexes naturally come back, his sight instinctively analyzing any opponent in front of him, his body measuring the right strength and speed that had to be put in each punch.

But then, god knows why, he looked at Bucky and Steve, just to realize they were taking down armed men one after the other, like one of them weren’t just frozen two days ago, for the past three months. Fucking enhanced super soldiers.

 

He was asking himself what he was doing there when he felt a sharp hit right in his loin. He fell to his knees and painfully rolled on his back to try and put some distance between his assailant and him, but as he saw the man pull out a knife, a bullet hit his neck and the body in front of him collapsed on the ground, spasming, making gurgling sounds as blood was pooling under his head.

 

He saw Bucky, striding towards him, putting down any man trying to stop him. He had to admit it was a pretty glorious scene to witness, but also a bit terrifying.

He probably had stared a bit too long because Bucky definitely looked terrifying when he got to Sam and half-yeld half-barked if he’ll move or if he had to carry him.

 

Natasha chose this exact moment to show up. Her car tires screeched on the asphalt as she shield them both from the last standing men shooting their way.

Steve jumped in the passenger seat through the window, at the same moment, Bucky and Sam hurled themselves in the backseat. Natasha got right off, after a well placed shot in one of the black car’s tank. The explosion wouldn’t startle the assailants for long, but it would be difficult to pursue them without a functioning car.

 

–

 

\- Where are we ? Steve asked.

 

\- A safe space. Not for long though.

 

After a twenty minute ride, the Black Widow had parked the car in an empty hangar on the docks of Hell’s Kitchen.

 

\- From now on, the only safe space we can count on is the little delay they get while figuring out where we are. When they catch up, we move.

 

Sam was still sitting in the car, the door’s open to let his legs on the dusty floor. He was rubbing the bottom of his back, that was really a nasty blow that he got.

 

\- Hey, nice wig, by the way.

 

\- You think ? Blond is not really my color.

 

\- Oh yeah, like there’s something that wouldn’t suit you.

 

Natasha only smirked. She was standing five feet from him, occupying herself on a tablet, showing Steve pages of information with ID pictures.

 

\- Those are the men who attacked you today, but we found that two other groups, plus two individuals, received a payment the same day, they were probably hired for the same mission. But there also will be official agents tailing you. Officialy, they’ve been ordered to stop the Winter Soldier, but Ross is also less than pleased that his encounter with the Avengers ended with half of the team behind bars, then on the run. Well, the government and some agencies are not pleased. Ross... I assume he wouldn’t be the one to cry at Captain America’s funeral.

 

\- He won’t have to. Ok, we have to keep moving. We’re supposed to meet Tony at 12, in Stark Tower underground parking lot. It’ll be best if we separate, they probably want us all so maybe they’ll stick to following if they see only one of us.

 

It was like Steve was back in uniform. He used the Captain America voice and held himself straight, in that way he seemed to gain three inches. Not like he was small to begin with.

 

\- I don’t think it’s a good idea for Sam to come.

 

Sam was going to take the cellphone Steve was handing him when Bucky spoke. His hand stopped into mid air. Everyone was looking at Bucky like they couldn’t really understand what he was saying. Bucky had crossed his arms accross his chest, looking slightly uncomfortable. Well, he better look more than uncomfortable and have a fucking good reason for that new idea of his.

 

\- What do you mean ? Steve wanted to take a step towards him, but he still wasn’t sure which one of the two men he'd have to stop from jumping on the other. 

 

\- I mean he’s distracted, he was slow during the fight and wasn’t careful enough, one of these guys almost got him, and if…

 

\- You mean the one you shot in the neck ?

 

\- I wouldn’t have had to shot him if you’d been more careful.

Bucky’s jaw was tense and he spat his words like it pained him to talk.

 

\- Don’t blame your own anger issues on me, dude.

 

Bucky turned to Steve and looked at him as if Sam was just a kid who wouldn’t listen. And Sam would take none of it.

 

\- Hey, don’t go asking your best pal to help you out now. What ? Is this what it’s really about ? You scared of me taking your place or something ? Gonna make him choose between you and me ? Well, you don’t have to worry about this, you can be his Robin all you want, except you’ve been out for some time so maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m in this shit like everyone else, what the hell do you think ? Like, I could just walk out ?

 

\- They want the Winter Soldier, not you. You could go hide and we would go the other way, occupy them a bit so you can have some time. You don’t have to be more involved than you are, you could… stay out of it, we take care of it.

 

\- What _the hell_?

 

Go hide ? Stay out of it ? Was he serious ? Sam followed Steve into all his fights since they were chased by SHIELD and now he was supposed to go hide because, what ? He didn’t fit in the tragic super-powered BFF story ? He didn’t have the words to answer, he saw everything spiraling around him, except for Bucky, at the center of his vision, the only part he could clearly see and it felt like he was coming closer… Until Steve’s hand on his shoulder made him realized that he had been the one stepping towards.

 

\- We’re all going to calm down, you have orders, you follow them.

 

Steve had used the same stare for Sam and Bucky. Hard, uncompromising, but still with that flicker of concern he couldn’t hide if you were close enough and knew what to look for. They both knew what to look for.

Bucky seemed even more sullen than usual, but he didn’t add a word.

 

\--

 

\- Where are they ?

 

Sam lifted his head just to see Bucky close the door behind him.

 

\- I don’t know, I arrived twelve minutes ago, didn’t see anyone.

 

Bucky didn’t answer. He went to peer out of the window. They couldn’t see the street from there, they were facing a wall that was standing six feet away, the alley was narrow but that would prevent their mercenary friends to spot them from the street and the fire escape could really be useful in case of emergency fleeing.

 

They were both early. The meeting time they received on their phone was in three minutes.

Sam looked at Bucky and he couldn’t help but remember his « suggestion » of leaving him behind, he had to work hard on himself to not get angry again.

He let his head drop into his hands, swallowed, breathed, in and out, one, two, three times. What was happening to him ? Why was he unable to stay calm ? He wasn’t supposed to get mad as easily as this. But Bucky… The little shit was seriously getting on his nerves.

 

When he rose his head up again, Bucky’s eyes were fixated on him.

 

\- Don’t worry, I’m not gonna faint.

 

\- You weren’t like that the last time.

 

\- Uh, well, quite a few things happened since the last time.

 

\- It’s because of me.

 

Sam was surprised to hear this. In fact, for a few seconds, Bucky seemed himself surprised at what he had just said. Then he was closed again.

 

\- Hey, it’s been going on for some time now, long enough that you’re not the only target anymore. We kind of pissed them off too.

 

He wasn’t looking at Sam anymore, gaze riveted on the floor. Even when Steve and Nat arrived, five minutes late, he didn’t say a word.

- 

 

 


	4. Have you been to the Met ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just trying to get back into writing with this one... Though I have some ideas for the next chapter. 
> 
> I'm gonna need a beta someday, though.

_« I leave with Nat to talk with T’Challa and Tony, it’s better if you both stay here, we’d attract less attention. Is this okay ? »_

That’s what Steve said forty two minutes ago, leaving Sam and Bucky, waiting in the dark appartment near the Manhattan Cruise Terminal.

Bucky had said nothing. Again. You kind of get used to it. Well, kind of. Sam became hyper sensitive to any kind of silence.  
That’s not something to be sensitive about when you’re hiding in a deseterd building though.

Bucky had been discretly watching him since their teammates left and, either he didn’t notice, or he simply didn’t care about him in any way.  
Sam was sitting next to the window, in the right angle not to be seen, even though the opposite wall had no window, he had some reflexes. He kept standing from his seat to peer out the window every five minutes, sitting again, wipe his gun of the imaginary dust he wiped four times already, check the bullets and stand up again. His mind was focused on the outside of the building, never turning to the center of the room, or the corner behind the door, where Bucky was. As if he was completely alone.

He regretted what he said earlier and couldn’t stop thinking about Sam’s anger. He didn’t want to underestimate him, even out of the military, fighting alongside Steve was good enough practice to stay in shape. But he couldn’t forget what he saw in the corridor that night he came back.

He shut his eyes and repressed the images.

Better focus on something else.

Steve and Natasha were gone for fifty minutes now. They were probably with Stark and T’Challa at the Tower. It was evident that they didn’t go by the front entrance, on the street level. The feds were watching from several buildings in the vicinity of Stark Tower, but there are undergrounds levels and different paths for the Iron Man armor testings that they could have easily took to reach their meeting point.  
From this safe house, it took only twenty five minutes to go there, maybe thirty if they were extra careful. Or had problems. But either Sam or himself would have got a message if there had been any problem. All they could do was wait.

\- There’s something going on around here.

Bucky looked at Sam interrogatively.

\- I saw two men approching from accross the street, same type as the ones we met on the road. It was ten minutes ago, but they seem to have just disappear now. Three minutes later, there was another guy. Disappeared, too.  
I can’t see much though, and I don’t want to take the risk of being spotted, but it’s weird.

Bucky rose and came near the window to take a look himself.  
\- Do you think they’re hiding in the building ? Waiting for us or for Steve ?

\- Well, as you said, they want you, and you’re right here.

\- As you said, I’m not the only one they want.

Sam looked up at him, as if he wanted to reply but decided not to.

\- I’m sending them a text.

It took three minutes for Steve to answer.  
_Stay where you are, do not engage._

\- Captain’s order.

Bucky nodded and looked again out the window. That’s when he saw it, well, his instincts kicked in before he could properly see what was coming their way.  
He jumped on the floor, grabbing Sam at the same time and trapping him under his body. One second later, the glass exploded and deadly shards went flying accross the room. The blast sent the chair and the near bed to smash on the opposite wall, ending in wrecked fragments scattered on the floor.

Bucky stood up and hauled Sam up in one movement, then he pushed him towards the door, a hand still on his back when they both squatted down in the corridor.

\- This way !  
Sam shouted over his temporary deafness.

He shot a bullet in the lock of the door accross the corridor and another one right before entering, this level was supposed to be empty but who knows how many men found this place.

They ran to a window, on the back of the building and managed to get away on a fire escape. Even though they were far from the cruise terminal, it was little past 1 p.m. and there was people in the streets, already crowding around the place of the explosion.  
Bucky and Sam kept running, trying to look like random pedestrians scared by the chaos on the other side of the building. They couldn’t stay in the middle of the street in daytime, someone would recognize the Winter Soldier soon enough. And they still didn’t know where the mercenaries were coming from.

They reached a small alley, no light, only the backdoor of a small chinese restaurant and overflowing trash cans. Bucky grabbed Sam by the arm to make him stop.

\- Wait. I think no one is after us.

\- Well, we don’t really have the time to check, we better move.

\- Yeah, exactly, they probably used the explosive to make us move, but where are they now ?

\- Ok, that’s weird, but it won’t be in our advantage to wait for them either. We have to warn Steve and Nat and find another meeting point.

\- Wait.  
Bucky reached for Sam’s jacket, lifting it to reveal the side of his t-shirt, soaked with blood.

Sam winced.  
\- It’s okay, I’ll clean that up later.

Bucky didn’t insist.

-

Stealing a car was easy, but they were now on the move, their teammates were not answering and they couldn’t just go to Stark Tower and ask to see Tony at the reception.

After spending forty minutes in trafic, they decided to stop in an underground car park. Sam was driving, but by the sweat on his forehead Bucky could tell he was loosing more blood than he thought.

\- Let me look at it.

Sam didn’t even try to object. He shifted on the back seat and took off his jacket and tshirt, trying to discern the wound under the small light in the car.  
Bucky sat on the back seat with him. Without saying a word, he found some tissues and started to wipe some of the blood off.

\- You probably rolled on some piece of glass, big enough to cut you deep. We have to find some medical thread and a needle. If only Steve was answering this damn phone…

Sam simply nodded absentmindedly, more focused on the hands on his skin than the words he heard.  
Bucky was using a small bottle of water to humidify the tissues and clean the wound, drawing little circles on his side, right under his ribs, with one hand, the other one on his stomach. So, he wouldn’t move probably, yes, probably. It felt like a warm reassurance, gently laying above his navel. He felt warm and a little light headed, _loss of blood_ , he thought, but also _too damn near_.

Sam was sitting in the middle of the back seat, so the small light at the front of the car could help Bucky see the wound, his hands the only illuminated part while the rest of his body was in the dark, behind the passenger front seat. Sam rested his right arm on the backrest behind him, perfectly sitted to watch Bucky clean and put a gauze on his side, trying to stop the blood flow. His whole figure was almost hidden in shadows, only his hands were illuminated by the yellow light. He thought of a painting he saw once at the Metropolitan, four characters draped with darkness, the face of the one in the center was illuminated the same way, as was the shoulder of another boy at the front of the painting, turning his back to the audience. He couldn’t remember the name of the painter and it felt ridiculously important to know it now. He had to ask Steve next time he would see him. 

\- Hey, you ever been to the Met ?

Bucky lifted his head, hands stopped in the middle of the taping of a second gauze.

\- I didn’t really visit New York.

Half of his face was now in the light and Sam couldn’t get that painting out of his mind. He slowly reached for the glowing cheek, letting his fingers graze the skin above the little stubble covering his jaw.

Bucky simply kept looking at him, letting Sam’s fingers go from his cheekbone to his jaw, then down his troat, as if he was following the outline of his body, trying to memorize the bumps and angles. He let him play with the hair above his shoulder, then, as slowly as Sam brought his fingers to his face, Bucky let his own hands led him over Sam’s smooth skin, tracing two lines from his sides to his chest, then his throat, then his cheeks.  
He wanted to know Sam’s body, too. He wanted to touch, more urgently, he wanted Sam to keep touching him. Tilting his head into Sam’s hand, he let the other man play with his hair, his skin, going over every muscle in his shoulders. The slow embrace quickly turned into something much more feral, both men craving for the other’s touch. Mouths and hands were exploring every inch, mouths and hands stealing and giving warmth, then finding each other, swallowing the other’s breath and those feelings so long repressed.

Sam was on his back, Bucky pressed in him, grinding hard, searching for relief beyond the fabric of their pants. Their lovemaking was urgent. Hearts and cocks throbbing, aching, trapped between them, and each movement was never enough to relieve pain and want. They were groaning, grunting in each other’s necks, then they stopped breathing at the same time and it felt like they both died but there was no pain, no sadness, Sam saw an other explosion behind his eyelids and when he came back to life, Bucky was panting on top of thim. He could hear his heart racing inside his chest, but maybe it was Bucky’s, maybe their chests had fused and they now shared the same organ, the same buzzing organ, that was vibrating loudly between them.

Bucky slowly detached himself from Sam and sat on his heels… to answer the phone in the front pocket of his jacket.

\- Yes. We had to leave. Where are we ?

Sam took a few seconds to understand the question was for him.

\- Uh.. near Chelsea Piers.

\- Chelsea Piers. Yes, ok.

He hanged up the phone and put it back in his pocket.

\- We have a new meeting point. I’ll drive.

Bucky was in the front seat before Sam had move a finger. He fixed the gauze on his side himself, and put his tshirt and jacket back on without a word. When Sam went in the passenger front seat was the only time he touched Bucky during the whole ride, if we can call that touching… After what they just did, to only be allowed of inadvertently brushing against his skin was torture.

\- That’s a shit place to keep your phone. Sam muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who left kudos on my clumsy writing and incoherent story ! It really helps me to keep going, thank you thank you thank you


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